


chasm

by dezagirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Caliborn - Freeform, Gen, New Universe, SBurb is won, Slight OOC, calliope - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dezagirl/pseuds/dezagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kids and trolls won their session. Dave killed Lord English. They were victorious. All have been living peacefully in the new universe- until a dusty planet catches the Sylph of Space's eye. It cries out in anticipation of its nearing heat death at the hands of its red sun, and the jade-eyed Sylph recognizes it as an old foe's home.</p><p>Caliborn's a Cherub who is the only person, besides his sister, in the universe- or so he thinks. He's lived his entire life on a planet of heat and dirt, without technology, without the internet, without the challenge of a deadly game, and without the hope for company.</p><p>That all changes when a pair of shades calls him an ass and tells him that there are other living beings in the universe.</p><p>In which Caliborn is himself, Calliope yearns to leave home, and Dave is an annoying older brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chasm

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter sets the scene! I have a lot of ideas for this story :) hope you enjoy! If you need clarification just ask in the comments and ill answer questions!

chasm

\---

The boy's shoulders are broad and sharp and deep green. His frame's large, but years of malnutrition have whittled him down. Dust is ground into his cloak and his red eyes are dull, glazed over with exhaustion and hunger. His cheekbones jut out like the peaks of steep mountains from the plains of his face.

The sun is burning red and violent in the dirt sky. To his right a green arm reaches out from the ground, holding a torch; there are thousands of these figures, all of them in various stages of ruin, all of them raising their torches. A part of him likes to think that they are raising them in supplication to the sun's fire, lighting it with their unyielding worship.

His eyes scan the dust before he sees what he's looking for in the distance. It's another green-woman statute, but this one has a rust brown streak across her abdomen, and her torch is broken off at the flame. Only a cone-shaped object remains in her hand.

It's hot as usual, and the boy- teen, really- works up a sweat in his haste to get to the landmark. When he finally gets there he plops down awkwardly in the dirt and scoots underneath the statue's sparse shade.

The teen's jade hand scrabbles in the dirt before his fingers find a small indent in the ground. With some effort, he manages to dig his ragged nails into the dirt and yank up a clump of reddish soil. He grins, dangerous fangs poking out of his mouth, as he brushes dirt off of an object wedged firmly in the middle of the clump.

A few smacks release the tough soil and reveal a plastic bag with a red book inside and a few pens. The teen yanks the book out quickly, nearly tearing the bag in his rush. 

His green hands fold around the red in reverence before he pulls out a pen and opens the book to a blank page. His scribbles are near illegible, but what he writes are undoubtedly words of some nature. His bare forehead wrinkles in concentration, and his writing becomes more cramped as he nears the end of the page, his large letters smushed together.

\---

ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS NOT HOT

THE SUN HAD A HOLE IN IT AND THERE WAS WIND. AND THERE WAS A MAN WHO HAD HORNS AND WHITE HAIR. HE LOOKED UP AND SAW THAT. THERE WAS NO HEAT. AND THERE WAS A BIG PLACE OF WATER. AND THE MAN STEPPED IN IT.

ALL OF HIS FRIENDS WERE AROUND THE WATER. THERE WERE A LOT OF FRIENDS. AND. THEY PLAYED A GAME.

\---

The crows come, as expected, while he is scribbling out the last of his story. His thoughts run together when the first bird screeches into presence.

They're hideous things with eyes like stones and vivid orange feathers. (He had looked up that word- 'feathers'- there were no birds in the stories he read, and so he had to look it up in the 'dictionary'. The stories only had pieces about him and a purple man he had never met.) They always caw and peck and irritate and today is no exception.

The biggest and boldest one waddles right up to the boy and squawks indignantly. He snorts contemptuously in response and talks back with a short, loud cadence.

"Yeah," he says, voice loud in the endless wasteland. "Keep trying. To distract me from. My work." The teen leans against the statue and frowns.

The bird screeches before speaking. "I bet your work is full of awesome shit like horsies and rainbows and swords." Its tone is strange and metallic.

The teen stares at the bird. 

This was not in the stories. Everything that has happened to him so far is somewhere in the stories. There is a crow

talking

he has not ever even thought about speaking to anyone besides his Cal and besides his sister, there is no one else in this dead universe

"Go to your house," the bird intones, "and put on the glasses that you found when you were being a shithead about six months ago and chasing my unbro's birds around screaming at them."

The teen's mouth opens uselessly. He feels sick. There is no damn way. His sister is doing this. He is locked in an eternal slumber, damned to nightmares, to unimportance, to no fate whatsoever

"Stop staring at me and do it," the bird commands, before 'caw'ing loudly and flying off. During its ascent is raises a leg and quite gracefully takes a dump. A sudden wind makes the boy have to dodge to avoid being plastered with white bird shit.

\------  
..........

The glasses rest hard against his pointed face, and he waits, only to spring back in shock when text springs up from the glasses. It's like a book. Like the stories. Only now he can read while walking?

The bird gives shitty gifts, he decides, before realizing randomly that he didn't put his book back in the plastic bag and bury it.

Text distracts him.

timaeusTestified:

You don't know me, but we were once and or will be acquainted, according to my dad-bro, who is an ass, but we will discuss that later.

I can't explain anything to you right now but I can talk to you. If you ever want to talk to me then you should speak out loud while holding the bridge of these glasses. I'm the only person on your chat client right now, so that's all you need to do.

I got my friend Roxy using her mystic witch powers right now to devoidify you a completely corporeal, 100% unique and definitely probably operating laptop. A girl named Jade can see you in space and they're working together to get you connected. So yeah. You kind of owe me.

We didn't think you would be here, in the new universe. But the fuck did we know. You're apparently always here.

Regards,

Dirk Strider

\----

He doesn't understand what's going on.

This person can't know you. You and your sister are the only beings on the entire planet and the dust sky and all of the places beyond the red sun. (The places beyond are the Universe. The dictionary told you that when you were very young.) 

New universe? The book with the planets on it (he learned that word, planet, young) had told him red suns were for old planets. Old star systems in decay (a hard word that means 'rot', but he doesn't know what rot is. And it means eventual death, too.) had red suns.

(Death was a word he still didn't understand. The only living things were he and his sister. He thinks that maybe death is to not be anymore. Like sleep for the whole world and every part.)

What is a chat client? What is this?

Something is rolling down his face and the teen swipes it away irritably. He stares down at his hand. There's red blood from his aggravated swipe and there's water. It reminds him of the water in his story.

Maybe the glasses are just a story. Maybe they're from the purple man he hasn't met yet. Something wiggles in his brain and he can hear his sister stirring, though she can't wake until he slumbers

Not up for a mental argument, the boy shuts her out. His eyes trail onto the glasses.

His mind changes abruptly. With resolution, the boy pulls his sister into semi awareness in his mind.

CALLIOPE.

He can feel her stir in annoyance and a little excitement. Brother! her voice chirps, tinted with questions. We have t talked in so long...!

THERE WILL BE A PAIR OF GLASSES ON THE TABLE WHEN YOU WAKE UP. He can't risk hiding the glasses out in the dust or even in a hole. They're too precious. And if his sister were to find them hidden i the room she might just touch them and wear them with curiosity and find out.

Not for the first or last time, he wishes that Calliope and he were still chained together. Until they were on the cusp of whatever age they were now- between the time of big face cheeks and little noses and growing into long limbs and jutting bones- they had kept themselves shackled, obstinate towards one another. At least then she couldn't touch his stuff as easily.

Caliborn? her voice, breathy, chimes in his head.

DO NOT TOUCH THEN. THIS IS A COMMAND. MAYBE IF YOU ARE OBEDIENT I WILL RECONSIDER KILLING YOU.

He- Caliborn- feels a dull niggling at the back of his head.   
Determination and domination. The knowledge that he will kill his sister is a quiet one that rests within him, unwanted. He knows it will happen- just not when, or particularly why. He is alone, and he does not want to lose the only other voice he has, even if it is a particularly shrill and annoying one. So he will not rush.

You're so rude! she says, growling in irritation. If you just asked nicely you wouldn't have to threaten me!

After a pause, Caliborn can somehow feel her quiet assent. Yes. she nods. Of course, she says finally. You know that if you really don't want me to.

He can feel her curiosity but does not make an effort to quench it. He feels suddenly lethargic .

READY TO WAKE UP? he asks.

His sister sighs. Sure, she whispers, voice suddenly sorrowful.

He slips into dream and she awakes.

\-----


End file.
